With a red color
I hit the paper
With a red color
I stroke the paper
I move my wirst
right and left
up and down
And draw her at dawn
With each stroke I feel
I feel what I can barely see
It’s like touching her
In a dream
Her body is the drug
I do not dare to touch
That’s why
I draw this strokes
Finally, when I’m done
I want to break it
Break the drawing
And keep on going
But it has me trapped
Inside that smooth skin
It looks like some red strokes
But I’m not fit to touch
the hem of her garment...